The Way Things Should Be
by dracosdramaqueen
Summary: Holy Crap-- this was my first ever thinger, and it stinks to high heaven. Read it and be amused -- rfl, hg, hrd
1. And So it Begins

Author's Note: Sic all the lawyers on me, for I am untouched by the law! MWA HA HA HA HA! (Ish in her CHICAGO faze right now, don't listen) *You hear a haunting voice* Review. REVIEWWWWWW.  
It had been a busy day at the Weasleys'.  
Harry was laughing jovially, something he had rarely done in his fifth year. But that was over now, and his scar was fading. Ron was just as merry, clutching his heaving sides and pounding his fist on the earth from his all-fours position. Hermione, on the other hand, was frowning, arms akimbo.  
  
"When are you two going to grow up?" she asked shrilly, hurrying over to an almost unnoticeable form in the yard. She patted the person comfortingly on the back, handing her a handkerchief. A freckly hand pushed it away.  
  
"Not this time, Hermione," Ginny Weasley was flushed, but not from embarrassment. She stomped flat-footed over to the two laughing males, leaving small marks in the grass where she had stepped. "Listen up, you!" Harry stopped at once, but Ron continued to snigger.  
  
"You have no right, no right to laugh like that." Harry hung his head in submission, but Ron fluttered his hands, unconcerned.  
  
"Aw, come off it, Queen Virginia." Ginny's face went from crimson to beet red. To be caught acting by Ron was one thing, but by Harry, over which her fancy still lingered, was beyond mortification. She sneaked a look at Harry; he was glaring at Ron. For a moment her heart fluttered, but then Harry's attention was fixed back on Ginny. She looked down.  
  
"Actually, er- I thought the part um, fit you well." Even Ron stopped laughing to gape at Harry when Harry said those words. Hermione looked like she was going to say something, but instead made her mouth the knowing line ethat Ron hated so. Ginny grew defensive once more.  
  
"If you're making fun of me again-" It was too much, to have her crush and her brother watch while she was pretending to be Queen Virginia (who, coincidentally, was married to King Harold). Add Cho Change intot he mix, and to Ginny life could be a living hell. The gorgeous Ravenclaw have been throwing herself at Harry all last year, but he had stayed away, thinking it an insult to Cedric. But one day he was bound to snap.  
  
Ginny burst into tears and ran from the unkempt garden. Hermion, with furious looks at Harry and Ron, followed. Ron laughed again.  
  
"Good one, Harry! You really had me convinced for a second there." When his friend didn't respond, Ron put on a high voice. "Oh King Harold, my love, the vizier is goving me the look again. What is that you say? He's in love with me? But, I'm not that beautiful. And I love you, husband dear." In a hugely exaggerated motion, Ron kissed the air in front of him.  
  
"Hush, you," murmured Harry.  
  
"What's the matter with you, Harold?" Harry threw a dirty look at Ron, who promptly put a long-fingered hand on Harry's pinkish scar, checking for a fever. Harry brushed Ron's hand away, hesitated for a second, and then ran into the house after the two girls.  
  
"Ginny- I'm sorry!" he yelled, disappearing behind the Burrow's back door. Ron had no choice but to follow. 


	2. Chapter Two

The train ride to Hogwarts was less fun than it normally was. The events of last week still hung fresh in everyone's mind. Hermione and Ginny were separated from Ron and Harry by a mere chair, but the gap seemed unfathomable. Every so often, Hermione would throw dirty looks at the two others and whisper urgently to Ginny. Ron was glaring at the girls; Harry was zoned out, looking at the countryside flashing by the window. Ginny wasn't speaking, but would nod vigorously whenever Hermione spoke into her ear. Ron cleared his throat importantly. Hermione and Ginny carefully avoided his gaze and started to whisper once more. Harry's head snapped to attention, but Ron was staring daggers at the girls and did not speak. Harry went back to the exhilarating world of sheep.  
  
Five minutes later, the four occupants were briefly united as the compartment door slid open and Draco Malfoy, Slytherin extraordinaire, walked in. He was up in the rankings of Hogwarts because he had rebelled against his father and fled the Malfoy estate when Lucius became the head death-eater. When Dumbledore used the very thing that Voldemort had attained from Harry against the dark lord, Voldemort perished. His death triggered the death of all his death-eaters. Draco was now the legal heir of the Malfoy fortune.  
  
His flock of cronies had grown. Crabbe and Goyle still flanked his right and left sides, but behind him was an adoring flock of girls, none of which (and they were proud to admit it), were Gryffindors. Draco had shown no interest in any of them. Though Harry and Draco's animosity was far from healed, he and Ron had reached the grudging conclusion that Draco wasn't as bad as he seemed. Hermione, though she verbally agreed with her friends, was no less aggressive to the wealthy sixteen-year-old. Malfoy motioned the girls out.  
  
"Surprise!" he said, in terribly good spirits.  
  
Good Spirits? Malfoy?  
  
He placed himself conveniently in the chair between Ron and Hermione, much to both of their dismay. But what he did next was unthinkable, let along most unMalfoy-like. He snaked an arm around both Ron and Hermione's shoulders and pulled them in close.  
  
"When are you two love-birds going to get together?" Malfoy laughed. It seemed as if time froze in the events that followed.  
  
Ron did nothing but gape and stare at Hermione's head. Hermione jerked violently back from Malfoy's grasp and landed him a huge slap on his pale face. Malfoy's face turned a deep pink. Crabbe and Goyle lurched stupidly toward Hermione, but Harry launched himself in front of her. Crabbe and Goyle, finding the closest Gryffindor now Ginny, (they would no longer tangle with Harry after last year's "incident"), stumbled toward her, arms outstretched. Harry let out a yell and jumped on both the Slytherin goonies, who were at a loss at what to do. It was Malfoy who ended it.  
  
"That's enough, boys," he delicately touched his cheek as Harry let go and sidestepped Crabbe and Goyle and comforted the quivering Ginny. Malfoy laughed, yanking a lock of Hermione's hair and letting go of Ron. "A joke, Hermione." He signaled at Crabbe and Goyle, who sulked out of the compartment and slid the door shut. There was a moment of awkward silence. "Somebody say something," said a blushing Ginny. Harry was still patting her back soothingly. Ron was working his jaw furiously, resembling a drunk fish. Hermione was steaming, and was going to say something when she abruptly snapped her mouth shut.  
  
"He called me Hermione," she said feebly. Ron suddenly found his voice.  
  
"In case you haven't noticed, that's your name." Hermione blushed.  
  
"I know, but I mean-"  
  
"That jerk! That creep! That-"  
  
"Ron!" Hermione said warningly.  
  
"Whatever he is, he's lower than dirt. Imagine, you and I getting together!" Instead of agreeing, Hermione flushed a deeper pink. Oblivious, Ron went on.  
  
"I don't know who he thinks he is! Money or no, he can't just waltz into other people's compartments and tell them what to do!" Hermione put a silencing hand on his mouth.  
  
"What I meant, before you interrupted, Ron, is that he called me Hermione. He's never called me that before. It was always Granger, or mud blood." Ron nodded meekly and Hermione withdrew her hand. Harry nodded slowly.  
  
"My guess is drugs," he said. Ginny giggled. Ron's face broke out into a smile.  
  
"Definitely drugs," he said. Hermione slowly shook her head.  
  
"No. I don't think it is. And that's what bothers me." 


	3. Chapter Three

Author's Note- in case you haven't noticed, I'm not big on chapter names. So sue me. *bursts into tears* THEY TOOK THAT OUT OF THE PLAY! WHY? WHY?!  
  
It was a contented lot of Gryffindors that made their way up to their common room. Stuffed, tired, and bonds reestablished, Ron Harry, Hermione and Ginny took their separate ways.  
  
Harry heard Ron asleep as soon as he hit the pillow. It wasn't until he was sure that Dean, Seamus, and Neville were also in slumber before he dared think, though there was really only one thing to think about. Ginny.  
  
She had nagged in the back of Harry's mind since that day in the garden. His fifth year, Harry hadn't noticed her much, but she had suddenly grown up on him. No longer was she an awkward fourth year that blushed every time Harry looked her way, but a budding fifth year that spoke with confidence and ease. She had always been beautiful, but it seemed now that she no longer liked Harry. Suddenly, he found himself wishing she did.  
  
~*~  
  
All previous feast-bloatings forgotten, Ron stuffed his mouth full of bacon and eggs as soon as he sat down at the table. Hermione watched with distaste and carefully selected her array of breakfast foods.  
  
Harry was moody, and when Ginny entered the Great Hall he straightened. But she decided to sit with her fifth year friends. Harry retreated into sullen silence.  
  
Ron, ever dauntless, pulled out a schedule and scanned it keenly.  
  
"Defense Against the Dark Arts. wonder who the new teacher is? Mrs. Figg didn't last long."  
  
"But she had so much experience!" exclaimed Hermione indignantly. But Ron had gorged himself again and didn't answer.  
  
The end of breakfast finally came, and Ron, Harry, and Hermione grabbed their bags and hurried to get a good seat. Ron entered first, and stopped dead in the doorway, causing Hermione to bump into him.  
  
"Ron!" she said crossly, regaining her footing. Ron didn't respond. Impatient, Hermione ducked under him and into the classroom. Harry heard her sharp intake of breath as he herded Ron into the class. He turned around, and almost gasped himself.  
  
Fleur de la Cour of Beauxbatons was standing in the front of the classroom. She was fiddling nervously with a lock of her long, shimmering hair, and gave a wobbly smile when Harry looked her way.  
  
"'arry! I am going to teach Defense Against ze Dark Arts her thees year." Harry managed a nod. How, he didn't know. The chock of seeing the gorgeous girl had had almost a big affect on him as Ron, who was still gaping at Fleur.  
  
"And Ronald! Do not theenk I 'ave forgotten you!" Ron's smile was wide and toothy. He rested his chin in his hand.  
  
"And 'ermine?" Fleur asked politely to Hermione, who was staring at Fleur with a mixed expression on her face. It was all Harry could do not to laugh, for he knew exactly what was happening. Hermione was torn, because half of her said that Fleur was a teacher and deserved to be respected, but half of her still held contempt because Ron had judged Fleur and her by looks in their fourth year.  
  
"You're not very- old." Hermione rushed, trying to break the awkward silence. She's even more beautiful when she blushes, thought Harry.  
  
"No. I was just seventeen in ze tournament. You don't theenk it will matter?" she asked anxiously to Hermione, who was spared from answering by the timely arrival of the rest of the Gryffindors. Many of the girls huffed to their seats after seeing Fleur, but a lot of the boys had a similar reaction to Ron and Harry. Eventually they all found a seat, Hermione last of all.  
  
"Class, I am Mademoiselle de la Cour, your new Defense Against ze Dark Arts teacher. Seexth years deal with curses and more advanced blocking of curses. Not that you'd need it after last year." No one laughed, because the statement wasn't meant to be a joke. Fleur went on. "So I am theenking we will work 'alf the year with curses and counter-curses, and ze uzzer 'alf on back-of-ze-book creatures." There was a quiver of excitement. The back-of-the-book creatures were the most dangerous ones in the wizarding world. Even Hermione couldn't contain the anticipation on her face at Fleur's words.  
  
~*~  
  
Ron, Hermione, and Harry chattered excitedly with the rest of the class.  
  
"Fleur really knows her stuff!" said Ron, relieved of his daze now that Fleur was out of site.  
  
"Mademoiselle de la Cour," corrected Hermione.  
  
"I see you've put aside passed differences," said Harry wryly, with a furious look from Hermione.  
  
"Whatever," said Ron, oblivious. Suddenly he groaned, checking his schedule. "Harry, we have divination next! At least we have no afternoon classes today. Don't say drop it, Hermione. I'd pick divination over arithmancy any day." Hermione flounced away with a knowing look on her face, and Harry and Ron prepared themselves for the long walk up to the North Tower.  
  
Rubbing his eyes, Harry peered at the room again, afraid he'd gone color blind. It was the same shape, the same size, the same students, and the same old batty Professor Trelawaney, but for some reason she had decorated the room with gaudy pink and deep crimson.  
  
"Will you please take a seat, you two?" came the floating voice of the professor above Ron and Harry's heads. Harry regained himself and dragged Ron to two magenta poufs.  
  
"My dears, this year we will be focusing on the subject of love." Professor Trelawaney sighed lovingly, and Parvati and Lavender giggled from up front. Harry could have cried. "I'll need a volunteer.?" the teacher scanned the class, and her bespectacled eyes at once fell on Harry. "Harry dear, would you come up here for a moment?" Parvati and Lavender glared at Harry as he dragged himself toward Trelawaney and deposited himself in front of her.  
  
"There's a dear." she murmured. "Now, don't move." She raked her nails through his hairs and daintily plucked a single black strand from Harry's head. He winced, but didn't move. "My dear." her face was tragic.  
  
"Don't tell me," said Harry, trying and failing to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "There's death in my future." Professor Trelawaney fixed him with a beady stare.  
  
"Not death, Harry dear, but love!" Harry looked surprised for a moment, and then smiled, walking back to Ron. Ron was sniggering as Trelawaney asked for more volunteers and almost everyone's hand shot up. Harry only vaguely remembered the lesson after that, for the draperies distracted him. They were red, red like a certain girl's hair. for once, Harry wished that Trelawaney was telling the truth. 


End file.
